Christmas With Todd
by colossalray
Summary: (Belated) Christmas oneshot. Jason Todd muses about what he's lost since his ressurection


Hey internet! colossalray here. This fic is me just testing out the word doc function on my new tablet...so sorry if the formatting is dodgy or I make a lot of typos because I literally have no idea what I'm doing.

This is my first fic, so please try to keep criticism constructive.

I'm not sure about the rating...if you think this needs to be moved up to an 'M' just send me a PM or let me know in a review.

This is set a year after what last was canon in preboot. (I don't particularly like the New 52) I fiddled with canon a little, so bear with me. Dick is still Batman...because he should be, damn it!

And for people that care for whatever reason; Jason is 24, Tim is 22, Damian is 11/12 and Dick is closing in on 30.

And who the hell knows how old Bruce and Alfred are.

But anyway, here's some belated christmas Jason.

Title: Christmas with Todd

Verse: Pre-boot DCU

Rating: T

Pairings: None intentionally, but knowing fandom as I do I'm sure some of you will find a way to ship something out of this.

Warnings: Swearing, drug abuse, sexual themes and prostitution

Summary: Jason muses on what he has lost since his ressurection

I always loved Christmas. Everything about it - the lights, the cold turning hot breath into smoky dragon breath, the hustle and bussle of desperate gift givers trying to beat everyone else to the most wanted toys of the year, the religion, the mythology- it was special.

For me, Christmas was a time of hope. More so than most, probably.

As a little kid, Christmas meant my mom and dad actually getting along (mostly). It meant going out someplace humble and warm and eating a meal that didn't include french fries. It meant listening to the often off-key melodies of carolers and belting "Fiiiive gooooold rings!" at the top of my lungs whenever the opportunity arose - I could never get past the seventh day so mostly I just listened and waited for the best bit - and "borrowing" large gulps of highly spiked eggnog from my dad whenever he sat the cup down.

It also meant presents, which as a child I think I was entitled to prioritise. It wasn't much, but "Santa" always managed to get me at least one thing I asked for - even if it wasn't the most expensive gift on my list. It's the thought that counts, right?

Mom had an addiction though, and as it worsened money got noticably tighter, and she got noticably sicker. With dad around less and less it fell on me to look after her - and I did. I bought the christmas presents - cheap shit for mom and dad wasn't too hard to fork over for. I even had a paper-round to help fund it one year. Mom spent most off those christmases completely wasted, but I still decorated the apartment, wrapped the gifts, sang the songs and mom was always just sober enough to go out to eat.

When she overdosed, I was as distraught as you could imagine. My mom was all I really had. When she was gone I ran to the streets, which I'll admit right now was probably not the best course of action for an eight year old. That was in summer, though, and come thanksgiving/ christmas time, i'd found my feet and started coping.

It was cold on the streets, what with Gotham being elbow deep in snow every year and all...but people were more generous during holiday season. People gave me blankets and hot cocoa or eggnog sometimes if they passed me on the streets...someone even invited me into their home for a night. That's something people tend to forget about Crime Alley - just because the place is a crime ridden shithole - doesn't mean everyone who lives there must be a criminal themselves. People showed me true kindness there, and I just wish people would show such good grace back sometime.

Christmas in Crime Alley also meant business. I stole a few more things, got a bit more money out of it - hey, I didn't say I was the one showing true kindness there - and I got more clients for my "other" services. Everyone wants somebody to hold close at Christmas, after all (Though to be honest i'd have preffered to be with a pretty girl). Sure, it was painful, but worth it if it meant I could get my goddam thanksgiving and christmas dinner.

Things changed when Bruce took me in (which should be obvious considering the fact that he's a fucking billionaire). Alfred made the most delicious meals to ever pass my lips and ol' Brucie spent more money on me than i'd had in a whole lifetime's worth of presents from mom. Dick put aside his beef with the bat and would come down to wish us happy holidays and give us a gift - I was actually wearing the fancy watch he gave me when I was bured. I bought him a Tshirt with his name on it which I thought was so funny I couldn't even bear to give it to him...mostly because I knew Alfred would serve me up with gravy for it, so I gave Dick a book and a copy of " The Lion King" that year instead. I swear I hadn't seen it and didn't know what happened to Simba's dad...

I missed three Christmases to being dead or comatose, then spent another training to "Whoop Batman's Ass", so nothing particularly festive really went down, though I did sing "The Fairytale of New York" with an expert marksman before I killed the fucker. I'm not ashamed to admit I sang the girl part - though only because I have no idea what the male singer is even saying.

The next Christmas was spent in prison. Nobody visited me or gave me gifts, so I spent the day in bed glaring at the bunk above me revising the lyrics to "The Twelve Days of Christmas" in my head or huming "Silent Night" whenever I went for a piss.

After that it was Christmas in the looney bin. I spent the day trying to convince my head doctor that I wasn't completely cuckoo for coco puffs - but I could tell he wasn't paying attention and just wanted to go home to his family, and I couldn't say I blamed him. I would have sold my soul to go back to a nice family that loved me, but I knew it would never happen without some sort of devine intervention so I just kept yelling at him. I wasn't helping my case any, but it felt good to get some frustration out without killing anybody.

See? Not crazy.

The Replacement visited me on boxing day to rub in my face (though I'm not sure it was intentional) that he has everything I want for Christmas but could never receive (After all, I am most definitely on the naughty list) He had a family to spend Christmas with and got all these gifts ( he didn't even have to tell me about them. I knew from experience.) He wished me happy holidays and asked what I got for chrismas. What kind of sick joke was that, anyway? I just glared at him until he felt uncomfortable enough to change the topic. With an arrogant smile he actually started bitching about his life for a while just to make me want to strangle him more. Then he bust me out again as his "Christmas gift to [me]". Weird kid. You'd think he'd have learned his lesson way before then about trusting me.

That night I killed two people. Sorry Tim.

Last Christmas was the Christmas of self-pity. I spent the day watching Oliver and Company and taking a few too many painkillers for what few injuries I had. I think it was just a little graze from a knife-fight the night before. Believe it or not, this was probably he healthier option for me. When I'm not in a state of psychosis I have a bad tendency for getting so blindly drunk that I fall asleep on the floor and hoping I'll choke on my own goddam vomit and die...or I watch Disney movies (My mom and I watched Disney films together sometimes, and I even watched a few with Dick back in my robining days and I still love them to this day . Everyone has their guilty pleasures. Even part-crime-lord-part-vigilantes). I had chilidogs and neapolitan ice cream for dinner and fell asleep watching the Doctor Who Christmas special only to wake up fourteen hours later. Because THAT'S healthy.

Nobody wished me a happy Christmas that year.

This year, however, was different.

I decided to take a long patrol instead of all that ridiculous lonely bullshit. I would have previously, but you know, there was always that lingering fear that i'd bump into the bat along the way - be it Bruce or Dickhead. But this year I told myself; "Pull yourself together Todd! If your done being a total pussy this year, there are plenty of people that need saving just outside your door!" and for once I actually listened to my stupid voice of reason and grabbed my helmet.

That night was cold and I felt even more alone than usual - I usually treasure the solitude but come Christmas all I can think about is how much things have changed - and one of the first things that came to mind was how badly I needed to get laid. I fanticised about that while I waited for something to happen -it'd been a while - until I was interupted by the gentle flutter of decending snow.

Though I love Christmas, I always hated the snow. Before I had to live in it or wear short pants in it, even. It's cold and wet and only looks good before someone disturbs it. And since I live in a huge city - it's always already disturbed because no mater what someone is always out fucking shit up for everyone (and that person has a tendency of being me)

Unlike the old bird suit where phnemonia was pretty much garanted (Thanks a lot, Dick) I had made sure my suit was completely insulated. Even then, the snow still sucked, and knowing that the action wouldn't start for a few hours, I decided to seek out some shelter. Thinking hastily of my many turn offs to, you know, fix myself, i sat on the edge of a rooftop and watched the city live. When i was sure all evidence of my previous train of thought was gone (picturing my late grandmother complete with clown makeup really works wonders for that), i stashed my hood and mask in a hiding spot i have in the area where i keep spare guns, ammo and other gadgets - the city's full of them. I try to always be prepared. I kept a kris knife in my jacket pocket, just to be safe, and head out for the nearest diner that'd be open. After a long walk i finally stumbled across an old pizza place i remebered Dick raving about one time to rub in Bruce's face that he could eat whatever he wanted now or some shit, and noticing that it was open, i stepped inside.

It was a little cold, but better inside the shop. I could smell the pizza cooking and found myself leaning towards it and breathing deeply like a complete idiot. I was hungry all of a sudden - i hadn't been before, but just the smell along made my stomache gurgle in discomfort and anticipation. Or maybe i'd been hungry all along and hadn't realised it. I ordered a meat feast and sat alone to eat it in my own little booth. One of the waitresses was looking at me oddly, like she pitied me or thought i was cute or something, so i kept my head down and concentrated on the beautiful pie i was shovelling into my face. Damn, as much as i loathe to admit it, Dick sure knew what he was doing six years ago when he went here.

When i was done i payed for my pizza and left, wiping my mouth on my sleeve as i walked, trying my best not to notice how sympathetic the people behind me looked. Had they never seen a guy eat a huge pizza by himself on Christmas in the furthest corner booth before? Jeez.

It was only eight pm when i left. Realising that nobody would be commiting any proper crimes for a few hours, i decided to browse some shops. I saw a few things i knew Alfred and Bruce would have liked, and it killed me not to buy them and just turn up on the doorstep like one of the wise men, but i couldn't bring myself to do it. Bruce didn't avenge me. He let the maniac that killed me, that crippled Barbara, that murdered so many innocent people for laughs, walk. He didn't deserve shit from me.

I still felt guilty about neglecting Alfred though.

In the end i bought Alfred a gift anyway. It was a new china tea set, since i'd chipped a few in the past with my uneducated hands trying to drink from them. The cashier smiled coyly at me and i rolled my eyes. People are so judgemental in this city, seriously.

Stashing the tea-set away in my downtown hidey-hole and grabbing my hood and weapons, i took off into the night and started my patrol.

"Jason" a deep voice growled from behind me. I didn't have to turn around to know who it was.

"Batman" I replied, voice cold.

"You didn't have to do that. I had him." He told me, glancing down at the bloody and unconsious burglar at my feet.

"Yeah, well, so did i"

"No kidding" muttered Robin. I turned around to scowl at the boy wonder, realising that he couldn't actually see my face. Oh well.

"Piss off, brat. Let the adults talk"

"I hardly consider you an adult, Todd" the kid countered.

"I'm twenty-four."

"-And mentally incontinent" The pompous little shit added. I turned on the spot and knew my livid face must be matching my hood in tone. I pointed the gun in the child's face, gritting my teeth as i ground out "Dick, control your partner or i'll introduce his head to some rounds".

"No names in the field!" the boy said automatically. Talk about your double standards.

Sighing, Dick turned to face his sidekick. "Robin; continue patrol. I need to have some words with the Red Hood"

"But-"

I click off the safety. "I'm not kidding, brat. Fly off." I was totally bluffing though. Even i'm not so heartless as to shoot a child on Christmas. Even if he is a little turd.

"Bird puns? Really?" the kid looked affronted.

"Robin, i mean it. We'll regroup in a few minutes. Promise"

"Tt" Damian huffed, before turning to fire his grapple and swing away. Only when he was gone did either of us speak.

"I wish you wouldn't do that" Batman mumbled.

"What are you even doing out, Dick? I thought Christmas was a big deal for you. How come you're missing it? And the kid, too. Surely he'd rather..." i kept my tone resentful as i spoke.

"Believe me, i'd like to, but the big man is expecting something big tonight, so..."

I took my hood off to look at him better. "Who this time?"

He sighed. "Ivy. Revenge for chopping down trees for wrapping paper and decorium probably"

"Big surprise there."

There were a few beats where neither of us said anything. After a while, Dick broke it.

"How's Scarlet?"

"Dead" I answered sadly.

He frowned, eyes drifting to the unconsious buglar. To be honest i'm surprized he didn't know. "Can i ask how?"

"Shot herself." I followed his eyeline to the petty thief and shoved at his shoulder with my boot.

"I'm sorry to hear that" He reached up to rest a reassuring hand on my shoulder, but i shrugged away.

This was the most civil conversation we'd had since i bit it. It was begging to freak me out. "What do you want, Batman?" i barked.

"Umm...nothing i guess..." he confessed. Realising i didn't actually have anything to say either, he turned to leave. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

"You too, Dickhead." I muttered, on some level hoping he wouldn't hear me.

He fired his line and swung off with a shout of "Merry Christmas Little Wing!"

I felt a small smile tug at the corners of my lips. "You too, Dick. You too."

I know it was stupid to wait until Ivy's scheme was in full swing to visit the manor, but I figured it was my best shot at catching Alfred alone.

I stood at the gate self consiously in my neglected civvies: just a ratty short sleeved tshirt I've had for years and jeans. I'd wrapped Alfred's gift and held the box precariously under one arm as I waited for him to open the gate. I had walked all the way there in fear that i'd break the fragile contents of the gift if I came by motorcycle. Needless to say it took me ages to get there and by then I was freezing my balls off.

There was almost immediately a buzz and the gates swung open and i damn near ran towards the mansion, before remembering the gift i was now clutching to my chest. So i walked briskly up the winding path towards the front door.

When i arrived Alfred was waiting by the door. At first he seemed pleased to see me, but his expression immediately turned to worry as i drew nearer.

"My word! Master Jason, that is not appropriate snow attire! Come inside!". He hustled towards me and draped an arm around my shoulder, hurrying me inside, just as if i were still his fifteen year old charge and none of the complete mindfuckery of the past ten years had ever happened. It's weird to think it's been so long.

Closing the door behind us, Alfred fixed me a stern look, taking his gift from my arms and sitting it to the side on the floor to examine me.

"Your lips are blue, young sir. Whatever possesed you to go out dressed in such a manner?"

"I wanted to give you your Christmas gift before Bruce and the birdbrains got back from patrol and didn't have time to go back to my appartment for something w-warmer"

Alfred's look of sorrow at that moment chilled me more than the weather ever could.

"Come with me, Master Jason. Let's get you warmed up, shall we?" He said. Obediently i followed as he lead me towards the study where a logfire was burning dimly. Alfred added some more fuel to the flames and they ate it greedily.

He indicated that i should sit in front of the fire, and i obliged without thinking. He left the room only to return a moment later with a blanket which he insisted i drape around myself and one of Bruce's black turtle-necks (I didn't mind. It's not like i'd fit anything Dick or Tiny Tim wears).It smelled like him.

He then left again and i could hear a kettle boiling in the kitchen. Other than that and the crackle of the fire beside me i was absorbed by silence. It wasn't eerie or uncomfortable. It felt...right.

He came back with a mug of hot cocoa and my present to him tucked under his arm.

"Nice" I commented, reaching out for the mug. "Thanks, Alfred".

"It is my pleasure, Master Jason." He said as he sat down stiffly on the edge of the chair closest to where i was sitting on the floor. "I must say, i am rather surprised to see you here"

"To be honest, so am I." I took a gulp of my hot chocolate. It was fucking devine, all topped with marshmallows and whipped cream and chocolate shavings. Man I missed these. There was a beat of silence between us. "Well? Aren't you gonna open it?"

Alfred smiled at me and began carefully unwrapping the he saw what was inside, he looked at me with such a strange expression - reminiscent and a little melancholy, like he were looking at the ghost of a loved one. He smiled at me, but i could see the light from the fire illuminate the tears beginning to form in his eyes. "Thank you, Jason,"

"I saw it and it reminded me of the times we'd drink tea together, so i thought you might like it. I know you've probably already got one..." I trailed off, watching him carefully. I couldn't figure out why it had affected him so strongly.

"No, Jason. No. It- iT's lovely. Thank you, sir."

I smiled at the old man, and i realised that it was the first time i'd smiled so honestly, without a hint of venom, in a long, long time.


End file.
